It was around mid-August, we were walking back to Ronit's house from school. It was one of those evenings where the air had absorbed the floral scent of daffodils and honeysuckle; where the sunset was sitting so close on the horizon, you could almost reach out and touch it. Normally, Ronit would walk several paces ahead of me and would be educating or lecturing me precociously about something or other, but this evening she stayed by my side. We were both excited; we knew what tonight was. Tonight was one of the Rav's counsel sessions; a long evening in which he left his door open and people from all of the community could come to him with any problem and he would offer his wisdom, his advice. It meant he was out of the house until at least 11pm, and Ronit and I wouldn't be confined to a grass field or a hydrangea bush, but we could remain undisturbed in her bedroom for hours.
She unlocked the door to the house and peered over her shoulder as she stepped inside. We went straight to her bedroom and threw our satchels down. Her bedroom was plain like mine, though one difference I always noticed was the greasy adhesive stains all over her walls from where she had put up posters that the Rav always eventually tore down.
She grabbed at me, pulling at my itchy cardigan; her eyes were closed, and her mouth impatiently seized mine. We had been kissing like this for a few weeks; it had all started in the synagogue. We'd been laughing about the Rosenfeld's together, when suddenly she stopped giggling and started watching my mouth.
'Your lips are really red.' She told me. I had been embarrassed and went to hide them when she stopped me, leant in and kissed me. It had sent an explosion through my entire body, and since then we'd been finding any opportunity for our tongues to meet.
We fell backwards onto her squeaky bed, our hands exploring each other's backs, arms and legs. Occasionally, her lips or tongue would brush my neck and I would let out a sigh of pleasure that would shock me. We could, and would, do this for hours. Rolling around in each other's arms, slowly losing more and more clothes until we hit a wall; this is where we would stop. I would feel an ache that was rooted to my core, and I wouldn't be able to do anything else.
'I'm sorry.' I said, as Ronit stood up from the bed. She was just wearing her long-sleeved white shirt now, rolled up to the elbows and a pair of white briefs.
'Don't be sorry.' She yawned and studied herself in the long mirror by her door. 'It's fun.' She left and went to the bathroom.
While she was gone, I turned onto my side. I still felt the throbbing pain in between my legs so I lowered my hand into my underwear to see if I could relieve it. I don't know when or where I developed the boldness to do this, but I did it without thinking. I stroked down there and pulled my hand out. I rubbed my middle finger and thumb together, examining the clear, sticky substance on them.
'Mine does that.' I heard Ronit's voice behind me; she'd returned from the bathroom silently. I flipped over, and I concealed my hand behind my back. 'After we kiss, mine is like that.'
I paused and wondered whether to ignore the situation or to indulge in it. I spoke slowly, 'It... hurts... inside as well.'
'You know,' Ronit took a few steps towards me and sat on the bed. Her mouth was partly open, I saw her tongue trailing her bottom lip. 'If you put your fingers inside, it feels better.'
I hesitated, I started to feel sick and dizzy. 'You could...' I wondered how the words were forming. 'You could show me.'
I heard her breathe raggedly; her jaw clenched, and she nodded. 'I could.'
I opened my bare legs slightly, moving my foot onto her lap. She breathed hard again and shifted her body around. Tentatively, her hand approached my underwear; she swallowed and gasped.
